New Moon Alternative
by striginesensibility
Summary: What if Bella, after "waking up," had found Edward's CD and pictures? Besides, nothing is set in stone... DROPPED
1. Unsteady Ground

_I didn't trust this to last. It was a slippery, precarious edge that I balanced on, and it wouldn't take much to knock me back down. Just glancing around my room with these suddenly clear eyes—noticing how strange it looked, too tidy, like I didn't live here at all—was dangerous. (New Moon, pg 142)_

* * *

**Bella **

For over four months, I not felt this sort of clarity. Not since—I refused to let this train of thought continue. I wasn't ready to face reality yet. The gaping hole in my chest began throbbing painfully. I prayed that I would be able to sink back into numbness before the pain became too much to handle.

Sitting down clumsily on my bed, I clutched instinctively at the tattered remains of my heart. With the fog of the past four months gone from my conscience, everything stood out in too-stark contrast. I tried desperately to repress the memories that fought their way up from the depths of my brain. If I weren't careful, this new clarity might completely fracture whatever there was left of my humanity.

Thoughts straying back to the other night's movie fiasco, I couldn't help thinking that I was missing something important. Realization struck me momentarily and I remembered my real reason for waking up this morning. The clearness of a few minutes ago dulled slightly as my delusion ran through my consciousness. I needed to find a way to repeat the experience—this high couldn't keep up forever. At least I might be able to hear ihis/i voice once more before my numbness returned. That would be better than nothing, wouldn't it?

I couldn't let these thoughts continue. They would dredge up too much hurt, too much pain. I didn't know when I would be able to handle the memories, if ever. But I knew that thinking of them now, at my most vulnerable in four months, would break me beyond repair. Running downstairs, I scrawled a hasty note to Charlie and flew out the door, jacket in hand. Jacob would be waiting for me, and I needed him to make the pain stay away.

The sky threatened rain—what a surprise for Forks—as I gunned the engine on my truck. I pulled out onto the road swiftly. Letting the mind-numbing drone of the truck still my thoughts, I drove in a half stupor toward Jacob, my release, my clarity high.

* * *

**Edward  
**  
Watching the trees fly by as I run no longer excites me. Nothing seems to anymore. I can't function properly, and my once even, fluid steps falter from time to time.

If I could die, now would be the time to do it. Not in over fifty years have I felt this restless. My whole being calls out to her...my Bella, the reason for me to keep living.

But all I have left is my memories. I dwell on these almost constantly now. Unlike for humans, time for my kind does not heal all wounds. It makes them all the more painful. I love her with such an ungodly passion, I need her to make me feel whole. Knowing that in the past four months, she has probably moved on, healed, gone back to a life without the pain I caused her only serves to hurt me more.


	2. You Could Be Happy

**Bella**

The drive seemed interminable. Normally, the trip from my house to Jacob's took a mere fifteen to twenty minutes. Not today, though. Today, I was bordering on an hour.

As much as I tried, I couldn't banish the thoughts from my newly awakened consciousness. In one morning, everything I'd been avoiding fought to return. All the thoughts and memories I had banished for the past four months came crashing back down on me, eager to regain a spot in my awareness, or break me apart in the attempt.

My truck's engine made a terrible crunching noise. Hurriedly, I removed my foot from the accelerator. Too late—the engine choked and stalled out for what must have been the twelfth time this morning. Throwing a glance at the speedometer, I saw that it read sixty.

There was the reason for the length of the drive. I kept pushing the truck to go faster, trying to shorten the time of unrestricted thought—the window of opportunity for me to accidentally think clearly. That plan was only effective until I hit fifty-five or higher, and the truck stalled out.

"Come on!!" I wailed desperately, disgusted and surprised by the urgency in my voice. It would only be a matter of moments before the aching hole in my chest would kick me. And I would be left to hyperventilate, arms clutched around my chest, waiting for the flood of pain and memories to stop.

The engine roared back to life, numbing my brain with its ferocity. I felt near hysteria. Tears of relief streamed down my cheeks as I started driving again. I made sure to stay below fifty-five.

Forcing myself to pull it together, I rounded the final curve of trees and pulled into Jacob's driveway. I reminded myself that Jacob, my morphine, would kill the pain and make it better. The blanket of serenity he exuded never failed to surprise me. He radiated enough sunny happiness to break through the storm of sadness and hurt choking me.

I cut the engine and stumbled awkwardly to Jacob's garage. He made no comment about the tearstains on my cheeks. Pulling me into a tight, warm hug, he ran his large hand across my hair.

With my nose squashed into his chest, I muttered wetly, "Stop it, Jacob!" He released me, looking—down, I did not fail to notice—at me.

"What, Bells?" he asked, face concerned. His warm brown eyes calmed my hysteria, as I knew they would.

"Growing, obviously! You're giant!" I muttered, exasperated, at his shoulder. "You aren't supposed to be a whole foot taller than me."

We both laughed, a feeling of actual happiness creeping through my body. Jacob half carried me to the Rabbit. Placing me where I couldn't hurt myself or the motorcycles, he returned to work.

Several hours later, I noticed that the sky had started to darken. The rainy twilight had infiltrated the garage, making it hard to see. When Jacob realized that I had stopped talking, he looked up. Seeing the darkening sky, he put down his tools and stepped away from the piles of metal before us. They were looking, to my surprise, less like piles of junk and more like motorcycles.

He looked at the genuine grin on my face, and smiled. "I think you may want to start heading home, Bella," he said, moving a stray strand of his black hair from his line of sight. "It took you ages to get out here—and that was in broad...rain light?" he finished lamely, not knowing how to term the midday "light" in Forks.

The rain had stopped, and Jacob walked me back to my truck, threatening me to get home ibefore/i nightfall.

"I'll come by tomorrow after school," I interrupted, still smiling, as I wandered to the driver's side of my truck. "See you?"

Nodding, he pulled me into another hug. Jacob stayed long enough to wave me off as I backed the truck onto the street, then disappeared into the woods—probably back to the garage. I drove home in blissful unawareness, the happiest I'd been in four months**  
**

* * *

**Edward**

This is becoming truly ridiculous. I think I may actually going into withdrawal. Never in my hundred and six years have I felt this lost. Even my brief rebellion with the Volturi plays second fiddle to my pain now.

Nothing holds any glory for me any more. All I can think of is how Bella would scold me for my current mood. Bella is really the only thing I think of now. When I run, all I can concentrate on is her irrational fear of hitting trees. The Brazilian sunlight that makes my skin sparkle reminds me of that afternoon with her in my meadow.

The most ridiculous part is my reluctance to hunt. I am wary of what she would think of my brutality, even knowing that she has no knowledge of my whereabouts or actions of late.

I called Alice recently. Apparently, Bella is happy. She's found solace in some Quileute boy. That only makes my promise to give Bella a normal life harder. My resolve is fading rapidly.

Existence is difficult knowing that half of my soul is happy and laughing in Washington while I have to force myself to keep going—for her sake—thousands of miles away.


	3. In Fate's Hands

**Bella**

And so the weeks progressed. I spent every waking moment either at school, Jacob's, or Newton's.

School was hard...Jessica was still angry with me for the Port Angeles fiasco. Mike and Angela had decided that it would be all right to be friends with me again. Those two were probably the only things keeping me anchored to the present world. During the rest of school, I attacked my homework during class, staving off boredom. Because boredom led to unrestrained thinking—and that set the hole in my chest burning. It'd reduced me to nausea and tears during class too many times to be left to itself.

I realized somewhere after the first few days of our motorcycle project that Jacob also had schoolwork to finish. Just because I cranked mine out during school did not mean he could too. We made a pact that the days I was at Newton's working, he would do his homework—no excuses. And, regardless, I needed to work: our project was not turning out very cheap.

Other than feeding Charlie and sleeping, I spent very little time at home. Some nights I even got away with sleeping at the Black's. It almost hurt to go home nowadays. I hadn't cleaned in a couple of weeks, and it was quickly becoming unruly.

When the house became borderline condemnable, I decided to leave Jacob to his own devices for a day, or two. My first projects—laundry, basic rest-of-the-house cleaning—didn't take long. Standing still for extended periods of time left me vulnerable to the chasm in my chest, so I moved quickly.

I had saved the worst for last. Charlie was at least capable of doing the dishes and straightening up from time to time, but he left my bedroom under my own jurisdiction. Needless to say, it looked like a nuke had gone off. I wrinkled my nose at the mess spanning the entire room. This would take a while.

The piles of dirty clothes that had been collecting for several weeks completely obscured the floor. Gathering them all up, I threw the whole heap down the stairs. That load of laundry would be dealt with later. I piled my schoolbooks up on my desk, pulling stray pairs of socks and jeans off the computer and throwing them down the stairs. My closet looked threatening, with piles of crap peeking out between the doors—not my idea of "fun cleaning" at the moment.

Shuddering slightly, I attacked the bed. Halfway through the process of wrestling on clean sheets, I felt a tugging on my foot. Somehow, I had managed to get the heel of my sock stuck in the floorboards.

"Wow...The mess bites back," I muttered, slipping of my sock. The wood floor was cold under my bare foot.

After I finished with the bed, I glared down at my sock. "Alrighty, you. Time to get out of the floor."

I grabbed a pen from the desk and shoved it into the crack where the sock was lodged. Wiggling the pen, I pulled on the sock. To both my satisfaction and chagrin, the sock came out—pulling the floor board up with it.

"Great. Thank you, sock," I said, amused despite myself. Stripping off my other sock I threw both of them down the stairs. Then I set myself to getting the board out of the floor completely. I figured that either I'd trip on it later today, or I would end up getting another sock stuck in the floor.

With much tugging and annoyance, the board came out. I looked down into the dark hollow that the board covered and felt my breath catch in my throat**  
**

* * *

**Edward**

I can hear my cell phone ringing somewhere. The sound seems to grow louder with each ring. Let it ring—it's probably just Alice calling to tell me how well Bella fairs without me. When the ringer switches to voice mail, I smile.

For once, I'm happy for the silence. Just as I let my mind return to wandering my memories of Bella, the tinny ring of the phone shatters my serenity again.

The growl rises in my throat as I open my eyes, groping in the grass for the silver monstrosity. My fingers close around the cool plastic and I flip the phone open.

"What?" I bark into the phone as I press it to my ear. Alice's voice sounds tinny and strained through the connection.

"Oh, Edward...She's found them."


	4. Chance

_Well. After a slight (coughyearcough) hiatus, I bring you two more chapters. I hope I'm getting at least a little plot going. I re-read through the first three chapters, and was surprised at myself. It sounds surprisingly unlike me. Weird. Anywho. Enjoy. I hope to have some new stuff up quickly. I'm going to have to re-read new moon again..._

* * *

**Edward**

I felt the breaths I don't need to take catch in my throat. The cell phone felt cold in my hand.

"What?" I repeated, knowing full well what Alice had said.

She knew it too. Her reply through the phone sounded angry. "You heard me, Edward. She's found your little _mementos_." Alice's tinny voice paused for a moment. "Some part of me is inclined to think that you purposely left that stuff where she could find it."

I could hear the butter laughter in her voice. My hope had been to let Bella live a normal, human life. This had been my idea, and yet I left a loophole in the plan. Alice and I both knew that I didn't truly want to live life without Bella.

Alice must have seen the plans forming in my head, because her voice crackled through the phone again.

"Please be careful Edward." The tone in her voice alluded to something I must not have known. "Don't hurt her again. I don't think she'd survive it," Alice added softly and hung up.

I suppressed a growl of annoyance at Alice's warning. Feeling slightly unsettled, I swiftly closed the small silver phone. I roughly shoved it into my pocket and stood up.

I should have known Bella would find them. Frankly, I'd hoped she would find them.

Pulling a pair of sunglasses from where they hung out of my back pocket, I smiled ruefully. Apparently even someone like me gets a prayer answered every once in a while. I buttoned my shirt, grimacing slightly at the grass stains on it. I hoped that Brazilian airport security would overlook that sort of thing.

My sweet Bella's face in my mind, I dashed off between the trees toward the airport. I didn't know if she still wanted me, or if she'd simply send me away again. Even if it was the latter, at least I would be able to see her once more.

* * *

**Jacob**

I called Bella's house earlier in the afternoon, hoping she'd come down and rescue me from my homework. She'd said that she was going to spend the day cleaning, so I was surprised when she didn't answer the phone. Bella always answers when she's home. I figured she must be out getting cleaning supplies or something. I decided I would try again around dinnertime. She had to be home by then—Charlie needed to be fed and all.

I've been feeling off lately. It might be that I'm coming down with something. Quil and Embry have seemed weird at school lately too. I'm so close to finishing the bikes though! Getting sick now would suck. At least I can coerce Bella into coming down here to nurse me in my pathetic, invalid state.

I know this much: something's shifted. It seems like, I dunno…Some kind of storm is brewing in the wings. It's nothing typical of Forks' weather though.


	5. Fog

**Charlie**

"I'm not sure what's wrong with her, Billy. She was just sitting there…I haven't seen her face that white since—

"It looked like she was in the middle of cleaning her room. There was a huge pile of laundry at the bottom of the stairs. It looked like she'd ripped the floorboard out for some reason."

_"Has anything changed since you found her?"_

"No. She hasn't moved since I got her downstairs. She's been sitting in the living room staring off into space. I—I was so relieved…She seemed almost back to normal!"

_"Don't worry Charlie. She'll be alright. I'm worried too, but she's a strong girl. Bella will be alright"_

"I dunno Billy. She hasn't been alright for four months! I don't know what to do. Can… Can you send Jacob up here? She seems to feel better when he's around.

"He must be worried too. Bells always answers the phone… Of all the days I should have to work late!"

_"I'm sorry, Charlie. Jacob's in bed. He looks like he's coming down with something. I sent him to bed after he tried to call Bella the second time. I'm really sorry. Are there any of Bella's other friends you can call?"_

"No.. It-it's alright. Jacob needs to stay healthy. I'll think of something… Send him over as soon as he feels better though. She..she can't stay catatonic forever. It'll be okay. Thanks for your help, Billy. I'll call you later if she gets any better."


End file.
